89. I Love ... the Hand Sewn.

I have things

that have been stitched 

by the hands of 

my mother,

my grandmother,

my children's great-great-great grandmother

and my adopted Nan from Newfoundland.

I hold them.

I touch them.

I wonder what they were thinking about

as they sat and worked away.

I wonder where they were sitting.

I wonder whether they enjoyed doing it

as much as I do.

Whether it was a respite from the 

hard work of the day

or something to fill vacant hours.

I cherish

that every single stitch

exists because of 

their hands.

I envision them,

sitting quietly,

infusing that creation

with their hours,

their energy,

their spirit

and their enduring love.